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Dragon in Distress?

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((1x1 fantasy and maybe some romance))

Elora is a shy timid dragon. With the use of a magic necklace she's able to take the shape of a maiden. Living in a cave in the lower mountain range she cares for a flock of sheep, a few chickens and a horse. She lives in peace with the small town nearby who often see her flying overhead. 


However when a dragon slayer frames her for killing livestock and burning houses, he offers  to kill her for a price to the now panicked town. 


Suspicious of the slayer, a young man believes the dragon is benevolent and seeks the truth behind the lies. 



Setting: medieval times

Time of year: early summer Surroundings: set in a valley of a mountain range, beautiful place of orchids and fields, cows, sheep and goats are the livestock dotting the countryside. The town is small, around 300 people, houses are wood with thatched roofs or granite with terra cotta shingles for the "rich" people. Merchants, farmers and smithers are all here.


Name: Elora Snow

Age: appears early twenties as human

Location of cave:

Elora's cave is to the west of the town around a day's horse ride away. She built a cottage on a forested hill outside the town, West, about ten miles from the nearest farm so she could stay there before she heads into town to get things she can't grow or obtain for herself. It is here the children play with her and often hide when she transforms into her dragon self flying to her real home.

Necklace: a gold plated chain that grows and curves to a point on her chest, a jewel on the largest plate looks like a star sapphire, rich blue in color. 

Abilities: she hails from the far far north, her breath is blue flame that freezes what it touches. She doesn't use it often. 


Apprentice: she's about 6'7" at the shoulder as a dragon. Her back frill she can raise and lower at will. She has a mix of fur and scales. Cool to the touch. Eyes are gold that change ice blue when breathing her ice fire.



Human: a petite sun kissed woman with pale blonde hair and golden eyes. 5'3" tall. 



Her horse named Cora:


Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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((Yesss! I'll get my sheet up tomorrow. I'm playing the young man, right?

Yeah, I've seen that's your preference. If someone else wants to RP, I'd step down. I should warn you that replying 7 days a week is impossible for me as I have both school and work.

Just a few questions: is the worldbuilding and plot defined, or are we making it up as we go along?))


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For now it's defined, it's mostly in the area I specified. Yes, young man one who wants something more than the life he has. Something beyond what his station allows. As for what it is, I'll leave it to you. My other friend on here has work and school too so I'm okay with waiting. Once this plot has been resolved we can move on to something else, possibly larger to expand the world and lore if that's ok with you

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Name: Lennart ("Len" for short) Sweet

Sex: Male

Age: 17

Appearance: Len's a very shifty-looking, pale man. Despite his height and build, his face is strikingly young, though not quite a babyface due to its sharpness. His hair has grown long and at times goes messy, no matter how many hours he tries to tame it (and he spends a lot of time on his appearance). His irises are a very dark brown, enough to give the illusion of total blackness when he wears a hat. Usually wears the plainclothes of the working class, and his best suit, unworn, is black with a small trim of red. Normally, Len goes barefoot, leading to the occasional scrape. Though hidden, his most expensive item is a small ring of silver.

History: ((gonna flesh this out as the RP goes on--these are brief notes)) He's running. Running away from the home where he's supposed to marry a girl from a slightly richer family. His own loves and cares for him, but they'd do anything to get out of the field. He himself has no job to speak of, as rumors spread around his hometown that he's a criminal. When a so called "dragon slayer" waltzed into town and began shouting his , Len recognized the same haughty look; the one that shows that there's a deeper truth. Suspicious, he packed his bags and left his house in the middle of the night to find this legendary dragon.

Other: ((I'll wait for your approval for this, but is it possible for Len not be actively magical, but instead enhance magic, if it makes any sense? Like, to put it in DnD terms, if he was to wear a ring that grants +2 stamina, it would give him +3 instead.))

Edited by serce2

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((enchanted items are very rare but family heirlooms are often enchanted. Given I have a necklace that gives her a human body, he could have the ring :D ))


Elora Snow stood outside the town. A nearly empty basket in hand, a fine sky blue silk cloak spread gracefully over her shoulders and down her back stopping only a few centimeters from the dusty, rut ridden path that lead to town. A cold bite was in the late morning's gentle breeze, a subtle remember that the last traces of spring were still refusing to leave. 


Frozen, the short, pale haired faux woman waited until her nerves were calmed before she actually set foot passed the farm lands and into the town. She always dreaded the days she had to collect items she desired, but couldn't acquire without the assistance of human trading systems. The clamor of people, wagons, animals and market goers were too much for her senses to handle. Although she appeared human, the guise only covered so much of the truth. Her eyesight, hearing and smell were the same, so this battle of her instincts to hide and her need to tend to herself and the animals under her care were a routineual occurrence. 


With a deep breath and smoothing the long sleeved modest green linen gown she wore, she steeled her nerves before setting her jaw in determination as she marched into the town. She wove through the streets, following the mental map she had from the few times she acquired an aerial view and, coupled with her impeccable sense of direction, finding the market and Smith's street where the jewellers and black smithers worked. First item to check off her mental list were to have her cutting shears sharpened. 

Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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((He doesn't actually have the stamina ring, only a plain silver one. I was just using it as an example. Sorry if I confused you!))


The street tasted like waste, and the grit got everywhere on his tongue. The steadily rising sun just gave him a headache. Len wiped his mouth with the hem of his shirt and a grimace at the bar's closed doors. If he tried enough, he could still taste the cheap beer underneath all the pebbles. This was his first fight. He had no idea what came over him, just that some merchants he knew had stopped in town and decided to gossip in plain view of him. A thief, they said, he was the one who took my silver last week. The irony of it; traders that one moment routinely stiff their customers, can, in the next breath, complain about a miscount. They knew very well too that he was nowhere near the markets.


In fact, he was at the town's square that afternoon. Some rich lunatic rode into the village on a horse easily double the size of the local farmers', telling anyone who would listen about the deaths of sheep and how it was all the work of the local dragon. There was a look in that man's eye that Len didn't like. It was a haughty glitter, one that told of cruelty and power. It was the tax-collector's glitter. The king's glitter.


While he was reminiscing all this, Len wandered the streets. He didn't want to return home so soon, but his family didn't need anything and he had only a few coins left to be splurged. The main market was beginning to open up and carts were bouncing on the slightly-nicer brick. He thought then that he might pick up a handful of strawberries for himself, as a way to forget the day's sins. People already crowded the windows of the metal district, cooing over a nice piece of shiny here and there.


There was one lady that stuck out. She was walking with a purpose in mind. With a shawl that matched the sky, she was better dressed than the peasants around her. It then occurred to Len that she was a stranger, though she seemed to know where she was going. He knew better than to go up and bug her, but he merely wanted to see...


What was she up to?

Edited by serce2

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"Hello?" Elora called, her voice having a almost musical yet cold accent to it. He jumped when a clatter sounded inside the dingy workshop and a blacksmith twice her height and shoulders that could support two ale barrels on each came out. He had burns, scars and soot on his hands, though he wiped them off on his leather apron. "Aye lass? Whot can I get fer ye?" The rough looking man said remarkably softly to the now trembling woman. 


"I-I need my shears s-sharpened.... both of them." She stuttered reaching in and pulling out old iron pruning shears and a long scissor like tool that clattered to the cobblestones after her trembling fingers faulted their grip. The man picked them up and studded them. "Don't mean ta scare ya lass. I get that a lot. I'll have these sharpened in a hour. Only five copper. If ya have shoppin ta do ya can come by later and pay then." He offered her a smile, or she thought it was one under the massive tangle of brown that sprouted from his lip and chin. He seemed to be waiting for a response from her. 


Elora blinked twice and nodded trying to find her words again. "Okay.... I- I'll be back in an hour to collect them." He tipped his head, muttered good day and disappeared back into the forge. Holding a tanned hand to her heart she breathed deeply through her nose and make a face. It smells like sweat, waist, burnt flesh and coal here. Exhaling sharply as if to expel the sour stench from tainting her nostrils she spun on her heal and headed back to the market for the items she needed. 



She stopped first at the herbal tea and medicine stall, milling there for a while before moving on to look at the more exotic fruit that didn't grow easily around these parts. She haggled very little, obviously not concerned about money and soon her basket was full of goods. The wicker creaked in protest of the weight of it's load however she carried it as if it was empty.  Once finished with her shopping and still with fifteen minutes to spare she decided to look at the book shop in the town square and read by the fountain until the time came to collect her tools and head home. 


It was here however her uneventful day in town took a critical turn. "See here! This is the horn of a dragon I killed in the depths of the Dorian mines! Fowl creatures dragons are! They hoard treasurers and love the taste of a pure maiden, but you ladies need not fear I, Cedric the slayer will protect you!" The knight boosted. A giggle arose from a trio of finely dressed ladies with their female escorts who gathered around a man equally large as the blacksmith. He had dark hair cut short, clean shaven and dark eyes that held cruel intentions under a seemingly friendly smile. He held in his hand a spear made entirely out of a single horn as long as he was tall. Slender yet sharp, and dark red in color. It's shape was like an Oryx's horn and had a leather grip wrapped around the middle. 


Elora's face went almost as pale as her hair, basket dropping from her numb fingers. On the verge of tears she shouted over the din, making many halt to observe the display in earnest to collect juicy gossip as a small town so loves. "How dare you! You wouldn't want someone invading your home and trying to kill you! If you believe that hogwash about how cruel and evil dragons are, then you are two  corn stalks short of a bushel!" 

Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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The woman disappeared into and out of shops, doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. After less than a quarter-hour of watching, Len grew bored and started to amble off home. His thoughts turned to his father, the great adventurer that came home empty handed. His mother, the brooding old crone. Only his brother drew any affection from his current mood. He took after Papa, unlike Len.

His brother would be grow up to be like the man in the center of the crowd, and Len, looking up, was just the fringe.

A half second passed by before he recognized the figure. Here we go again with the town crazy. The dragon killer. For all Len cared, the slayer could've just bought the horn. Not deserving of attention at all, no thank you.

Len, however, swung when he heard the woman from earlier. She seemed to shine with passion and fury, of which the crowd closed in on. At first the townsfolk were amused, but he knew what's going to come next...

He angled his way toward her, keeping one eye on the crowd's current state of aggression. A tap on the shoulder might net him a black eye in the afternoon, but it was better than simply leaving her.

"Come on, it's not worth it." Len said to the lady, a low, cautious tone in his voice.

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Cedric laughed. "Poor misguided woman, nobody would dare break into my house! Such a pity seeing someone so beautiful be so misguided by those fowl beasts..." He said with a small pout and a disapproving click of his tongue. He turned back to the other ladies and ignored the now crying woman. 


"He killed Desmin." She said softly. "He was an old wise creature. He hated the taste of meat and had very few teeth. Who would murderer an old creature who couldn't defend himself for sport?" She whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. Looking up at the stranger. "You're right. Someone so callous and disrespects living, breathing and feeling creatures should not obtain my ire. You have my thanks for stopping me from doing the irrational. Please excuse me, I have tools to fetch." She said softly nodding her head in thanks before snatching her basket and anything that spilled out when she dropped it and rushed off to the smiths arriving just in time. She paid for the work done on them and promptly headed from town. 


She ran into the trees, cloak and dress snagging on branches as she reached the clearing containing her  human cottage. So overwhelmed with sorrow and anger she didn't take the cautionary look around before she stripped and folded up her clothes stuffing them on the already overflowing basket and took off her necklace. At once her body grew, snowy white fur, opal like scales and chest plates icey blue rimmed with white.


With two talons she picked to the basket, spread her plush wings and sprang into the air curling towards the east. She left in such a hurry that her wing clipped a tree and shed a few feathers on the needle lined branches. 

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